


Beacon Hills International Agency

by FeministLyds



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Secret Agent!Stiles, Senator!Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeministLyds/pseuds/FeministLyds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott McCall runs Beacon Hills International Agency, a for hire secret agency that caters to the rich and powerful in trouble. His main agent, Stiles Stilinski, is sent on a mission; seduce and take down a Russian mob boss threatening Senator Derek Hale. When Stiles doesn't complete his mission, he's assigned to the other end of the issue. He's sent to babysit Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beacon Hills International Agency

Night was just beginning to fall as a figure rushed through the streets. He clutched his coat tighter to him, the cold Russian air chilling him to the bone.

He pulled his hand up to his face, trying to warm himself up slightly as the sun set lower in the sky.

He made a turn into an alleyway, coming up to a heavy steel door. He knocked on it three times; a panel slid out from the middle of the door.

“Пароль?” (Password?) The doorman asked in tight Russian.

“Забывать.” (forget) He replied, his voice laced with steel.

The door swung open, and the man behind it was no where to be found, but the man pressed on.

He walked down the hallway, his feet landing heavy on the cold marble ground. As he approached the nearing light, the noise slowly grew louder.

Right before the glowing entryway he paused, turning to his right to an opening in the wall. A man sat inside of it, sharpening a rather impressive looking knife.

“добрый вечер.” (Good Evening) He said, handing over his coat.

“это натуральный мех?” (This real fur?) the man behind the counter asked, not looking at him.  

“Подарок от альфа.” (A gift from the Alpha.) He said, and then he looked up.

“Простите, я не узнал тебя.” (Excuse me, I did not recognize you.) The man said, his badass façade melting away into panic.

“Я уверен, что вы не будете делать ошибку снова. Спокойной ночи..” (I am sure you will not make the mistake again. Have a good night.) He said, coldly, walking away.

“A little harsh there, Stiles. Pull up a little bit.” the voice in his ear said.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Scott.” He grumbled.

Scott knew better than to try to fight Stiles, so he shut up as Stiles walked forwards.

His black tux glowed in the low lighting of the casino. Many men and women watched as he walked by, his hair blown up and his lips painted in a smirk.  

“He’s at the back blackjack table.” Scott said in his ear. He turned towards it, spotting him.

As Stiles got closer, he could hear him, laughing loudly as he won time and time again.

“Привет, любовь моя” (Hello, my love) Stiles whispered in his ear, leaning down to his level.

“Минутку, я победу.” (One moment, I am winning) He said, shaking Stiles off.

Stiles looked down at the cards belonging to the poor sap next to him. He was holding 20.

“ударил меня” (hit me) The other man said feebly. The dealer did, hitting him with a 3. He folded, giving the win to his boss, who was holding 19.

“Плохой вызов есть, старый друг. Возможно, вам следует догнать на ваших математических” (Bad call there, old friend. Perhaps you should catch up on your math skills) He boomed, pounding his fist on the table to sweep up his winnings.

“Возможно, я должен” (Perhaps I should.) The young man left, then, vacating his seat to his boss’s boyfriend. Stiles sat gracefully in the seat as he was dealt into the round by the dealer.

“И как моя прекрасная этот вечер? Считаете ли вы, так же как вы посмотрите?”  (And how is my lovely this evening? Do you feel as well as you look?) He asked, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Я хорошо, любовь.” (I am well, love.) Stiles said, his Russian accent perfect.  

“I’m pretty sure that’s the wrong conjugation of-“ Scott in his ear tried to say, but he cut him off.

“Почему я не получить нас некоторые напитки?”(Why don’t I get us some drinks?) He said, waving a waiter. When he was sure the boss had turned his head, he slipped the earpiece out of his ear and onto the floor. He swiftly crushed it with his heel, sending a shock through the line.

Back in Beacon Hills Headquarters, the blast of noise sounded throughout the room, causing the group to cringe. Scott quickly hit the button on his laptop, killing the sound though the speakers.

“Dammit Stiles.” Scott said, slamming his hand down on the counter next to his laptop. “Do any of you have anything?”

 “I have the security camera feed in the room.” Lydia spoke up.  

“Can you put it up on the screen?”

Lydia pulled it up on the main screen and Scott’s department at Beacon Hills International Agency gathered around the small screen, watching Stiles romance their newest target.

When senator Derek Hale came knocking on Beacon Hills’ door, they were surprised to say the least. Because for all intents and purposes, they didn’t actually have a door.

There had been a man harassing him for money, and that man was a Russian Mob Boss known only as “The Alpha”. Needless to say, Stiles jumped at the chance to help the “hottest senator on the hill”

Back in Moscow, those was a crowd gathering around Stiles. At first, he had thought it was because of his target; his “boyfriend”. But then everything changed.

“Виктор?” (Viktor) The Alpha said, looking up from his cards.

“Да, дорогая?” (Yes dear?) Stiles asked, looking up at mention of his undercover name.

“Tell me again where you are from.” He asked. Without even noticing the change in language, Stiles answered.  

“Я сказал вам, что я из Санкт-Петербурга.” (I told you, I'm from St. Petersburg.) Stiles answered without looking up.

“Тем не менее, вы знаете, на прекрасном английском языке.” (Yet, you know perfect English.) This made him look up.

“Что, любовь?” (What, love?) Stiles asked. The Alpha stood up.

“You are ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, American secret agent. You cannot lie as well as you think you can, my dear.” He said. Stiles’s smile slid off of his face and he stood up.

“You are Антон фамилия Аркадийевич, better known as The Alpha, Russian mob boss.” Stiles answered in a deadly tone.

“And you are going to be lucky if you survive this night.” He went forward to punch his in the face.

Stiles ducked to the left quickly, grabbing the alpha’s elbow and shoulder to slam him into the table. He heard the glass from his drink shatter, so he knew he hit his mark. As he turned back around, he noticed that the crowd was significantly bigger than he had anticipated.

“Shit.”

He ran towards two of them, jumping up and hitting them both in the chest with his knees before landing and running.

He dodged through he gathered people, with the others hot on his heels.

He nearly slid out of the casino, and into a waiting black car.

“Thank god.” Stiles said in relief as the car drove away.

“Scott said to call.” Said the driver of the car, Isaac.

“Can I borrow yours? Mine is a little…” Stiles left off, trying to come up with a good pun for leaving it in the casino.

Isaac tossed back a phone, already dialing Scott.

“Isaac?” Scott said as soon as he picked up.

“Nah, it’s yours truly.” Stiles said.

“I hope you know you’re in trouble.” Scott said. Stiles smiled.

“Sure.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll update as soon as I can, I promise. I pretty much have the whole thing mapped out, its just a matter of writing it. :) Also, I edited this myself, so please let me know if you see any errors. Thank you!
> 
> EDIT 5/8/2016  
> So i have absolutely no memory of writing this, nor do i have the entire thing mapped out. If you all want, I can try to map out something new and work on it.


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